AUSTIN — After more than a year of public forums and angry teachers, anti-gun rallies and faculty lawsuits, today is the first day that Texas' contentious new campus carry law goes into effect.

A lot of hemming and hawing went into the new law, which allows those with a special license to carry concealed handguns into most buildings on public college campuses. But after months of legal and political wrangling, school officials, professors and students must confront a new reality.

Unlike public schools, private colleges and universities can completely opt out of campus carry -- all but one have chosen do so. And open carry will still be barred on every campus, public or private.

Many see the law as dangerous and unnecessary. And today's date holds particular significance for those at the University of Texas at Austin, who are marking the 50th anniversary of the UT Tower massacre, the country's first major mass shooting on a college campus.

For others, the rollout means little, a "much ado about" moment that will come and go with no fanfare. To them, the law itself closes a much-needed gap that will allow law-abiding gun owners to protect themselves at all times, even when they're in the classroom.

Here are stories of how some are approaching the new law:

CLIF DRUMMOND, 72

UT Tower shooting witness

(Clif Drummond had just been elected student body president at the time of the UT Tower shooting. (1967 Photo/Cactus Yearbook) )

Clif Drummond couldn't find a pulse. He searched the young man's wrist, neck and hands with no luck. But he held out hope, thinking maybe the adrenaline coursing through his system was keeping him from recognizing some little flutter of life left.

It was hot that August day in 1966, Drummond remembers, with no breeze and a scorching late summer sun that beat down on the Drag. He was 22, a fifth-year senior who had just been elected student body president, a promising pharmacy student, but he felt more like a soldier.

"We went to pick up this guy ,and that's when we discovered he was shot in the mouth," Drummond says, the memory vivid after 50 years. "Just by looking at him I knew he had been killed."

"I knew he had been killed." — Clif Drummond

It was already a dozen minutes into Charles Whitman's rampage. The UT architecture student and Marine sniper had commandeered the school's iconic clock tower, leaving bodies in his wake. Drummond and his friend Bob Higley sprang into action.

Drummond grabbed his white pharmacist's coat, thinking it could be useful for bandages, and the two started on a winding path that took them across the Drag and in and out of stores, looking for the wounded.

Toward the end of Whitman's 92-minute reign of terror, they ended up near the Varsity Theater, where they helped a young girl into a car waiting to take her to Brackenridge Hospital.

That day, Drummond said, he and Higley were very calm and focused. But he reflects with fear on how close they were to death themselves.

"But at the time, neither Bob nor I went in that direction. It was: 'We need to do this. We need to do this now, and we need to keep our heads screwed on tight because it's dangerous out here,' " he said. "It was like, 'Oh, golly.' "

Today, UT will mark the 50th anniversary of the shooting by placing a small monument to the 17 who were killed near the tower's northwest corner. Drummond will be there, but he wants to make sure the day is about remembering the dead, not marking the beginning of a law that will bring more guns on campus.

"I think it was a careless decision by whoever made it to not realize that it would be the 50th anniversary of the shooting," said Drummond. "For us, it's not about the implementation of campus carry. That's someone else's business, someone else's doing."

ALLEN FLETCHER, 61

State lawmaker

Allen Fletcher is sick of people bringing up the fact that campus carry becomes law on the 50th anniversary of the UT Tower shooting.

This wasn't some conspiracy to rub a new gun law in survivors' faces, he says. Aug. 1 is the effective date of many laws, and the implementation of campus carry was even delayed to that day to give schools more time to work on their plans.

"I'm like, 'Are you kidding me?' We've been working on this for years, and for the implementation to fall on that day — that had never even crossed somebody's mind," Fletcher says. "I'm not a young man, but it's a long, long time since that happened, and I haven't thought about it for a long time."

In what would end up being his last session in the House, Fletcher helped champion campus carry over the fierce objections of Democrats.

A former Houston cop, Fletcher has always been uncomfortable with open carry. But he thinks campus carry is "a natural progression" here in Texas, where it has already been legal for decades to carry your concealed handgun into quads and other public spaces at public colleges and universities.

For law-abiding citizens who have gun licenses — those over 21 who have taken a test and paid a fee — this means they won't have to "sit under a tree and study and cram there."

For professors worried about the new law, says Fletcher, they're just going to have to deal with it. UT-Austin's campus carry plans allow professors to ban guns in their offices, a deal Fletcher said will not stand.

"A private citizen will say, 'You can't tell me I can't have my gun in your office.' And then that student will win, because the law is very clear," he said.

But a handful of UT professors have sued for even more control over gun-free zones, in the hopes that a court will say educators can ban them from classrooms, too. The worries, Fletcher said, are "much ado about nothing."

And the lawsuit? "That's not going to hold up."

Texas Woman's University Polcie Chief Elizabeth Pauley answers questions about preparing for the campus carry policy during a forum at the campus in March.

(Ranjani Groth/Denton Record-Chronicle)

Elizabeth Pauley, 65

Texas Woman's University police chief

As Texas Woman's University hosts parent orientations ahead of the fall semester, campus Police Chief Elizabeth Pauley can pretty well predict the first question that will come up: Tell us about this new open carry law.

With that common misconception — open carry, the result of a different law that took effect Jan. 1, still isn't allowed on campus — she begins her outreach efforts all over again.

"It's just a matter of education and communication," said Pauley, adding that more intensive training has been given to resident advisers and others. "Almost every group we are with, they are satisfied with the explanation. It's a lot of the fear of the unknown."

Texas Woman's University, whose main campus is in Denton, joined other schools last year in expressing reservations about the gun legislation.

But the school didn't create many gun-free zones under the law, still allowing carry in classes, faculty offices and almost all dorms. The school has ordered less than 150 "no guns" signs. And Pauley pointed out that only a fraction of the student body will even be eligible to carry because of the age restriction.

The chief stressed that common sense still needs to prevail: "If you see a gun, call the police." But after immersing herself for the last several months in the implementation of the new law, she predicts the new era of campus carry in Texas will be uneventful.

"I really don't see too much of a problem at all," Pauley said.

Jacqueline Vickery, 33

University of North Texas assistant professor

Already in her career of teaching media arts at the University of North Texas, Jacqueline Vickery has dealt with students who "yelled at me, pointed in my face, falsely accused me of things."

Now she wonders what will happen with guns in the equation.

"I'm not saying those incidents will increase as a result of this law," Vickery said. "However, the anxiety associated with such incidents will certainly increase."

Vickery is among the many professors who have voiced their opposition to campus carry. Though faculty at the University of Texas at Austin has garnered the most attention, they aren’t the only ones.

Indeed, Vickery and others are somewhat envious of their colleagues at UT, which has gone further than most other schools in allowing offices to be off-limits to guns.

"Our job means we sometimes have to confront students about uncomfortable issues," she said. "I will no longer have these conversations in the privacy of my office but will always ask another colleague to sit in with me in a more open space."

Not all professors agree. Stan Liebowitz, an economics professor at UT-Dallas, said he would actually feel more secure knowing some of his students might be packing heat.

But Vickery, who isn't a gun owner, worries the law will chill speech in classes like hers on social activism, where "emotions flare and debates get heated." And she fears it will change the relationship between students and staff.

"If a student feels the need to bring a gun into my office, I do not know how else to interpret that other than they view me as a threat," she said. "Which I assure I am not."

Allison Peregory, 21

University of Texas pre-law student

Late nights of studying at the library, often until 2 or 3 in the morning, are a matter of routine for University of Texas pre-law student Allison Peregory. The same can't always be said for the walk back to her home in the West Campus neighborhood.

Though the 21-year-old hasn't been hassled on that trek, there are dimly lit areas, isolated stretches and parts that she describes as "kind of sketchy."

"I'm female student on campus, who probably wouldn't put up too much of a good fight if something were to happen," Peregory said. "It would be reassuring to know that I was able to protect myself the way I saw fit."

Peregory is one of the students who plans to carry on campus. When she completes the process of getting her state-issued license to carry, she'll be part of what UT predicts will be less than 1 percent of the student body who do so.

Many other students have been part of the high-profile backlash against campus carry. At a UT forum last year, the overwhelming majority criticized the legislation. And protests -- including one that will feature sex toys -- are planned to mark the advent of the law in Texas.

But for Peregory and other campus carry proponents, the issue comes down to personal protection.

"It's important for people to have their right to self-defense be protected," said Peregory, a Duncanville native.

Though UT has among the most restrictive campus carry rules in Texas, Peregory said she isn't that worried about confusion. The school typically makes a "good point to communicate well with students and faculty," she said.